


Whumptober 2019

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Series: Whumptober [1]
Category: Video Blogging RPF, Youtube RPF
Genre: 'Don't move', 'Stay With Me', Ableism, Adrenaline, Aftermath of Suicide Attempt, Angst, Angst and Feels, Asphyxiation, Blood Loss, Car Accidents, Crying, Date Rape Drug/Roofies, Delirium, Dragged away, Drowning, Embrace, Explosions, Gun Violence, Hiding, Hiding Medical Issues, Human shield, Humiliation, Hypothermia, Illnesses, Injury, Isolation, Major Character Injury, Nightmares, Protectiveness, Recovery, Restraints, Scars, Secret Injury, Shaky Hands, Stabbing, Stitches, Tearstained, Trembling, Unconsciousness, Whump, Whumptober 2019, field medicine, numb, pinned down, shackled, waterlogged
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-08 21:48:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20842535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: Here's my series of short Ego drabbles for Whumptober 2019! Featuring the Septics, a few Ipliers, and some AU action. Pain abounds!





	1. Shaky Hands (Swap AU)

**Author's Note:**

> Just FYI: Some of the prompts will be filled with Egos from my Swap AU, where, true to the name, the Egos have switched roles. Here is the list of "Swaptics":
> 
> Anti AKA “Puppetmaster”: The supervillain who rules as a tyrant over Elvery Heights. There’s no one to challenge him and his powers, but there are rebellions here and there.
> 
> Janson AKA “Jackie”: The Glitch. His glitching can make him irrational and lash out at the others, but he wants to use the ability for good, if he can only learn how.
> 
> Dr. Marvin McLoughlin: The dry-witted, slightly cynical but good doctor. He’s the closest to their creator Jack and deeply blames himself for his coma. His luck didn’t hold out when it should have.
> 
> The Splendorous Schneeplestein: The spastic, energetic magician who ended up being tortured by Anti for information on how to gain new powers. He didn’t give him anything, but it left him and his magic pretty screwed up.
> 
> Charles Brody: The mute 1930′s man snatched from the past – along with his family. His family couldn’t cope with the change in the future or with Charles’ acceptance of it. They left to find a way to return to their own time.
> 
> James Jackson: The sweet vlogger who tries to keep the others in good spirits with his baked goods. He takes a lot of their pain on himself and has a lonely struggle with depression and self-harm.

Breathing raspily and blinking the blurriness out of his vision, James fumbled as best he could with the cap of his pill bottle. He twisted, pressed and pried at its edge, but it refused to pop off. His clammy fingers quivered and spasmed in combined fatigue and desperation; it was just now dawning on him how long he’d waited to take his meds—far, far too long. _Idiot, get it open!_

The longer he spent pulling at it to no avail, the greater the anxiety swelled in his stomach, a nauseating, dizzying wave cresting up, up, up, ready to—

_Crash_. The bottle slipped through his clumsy, useless hands and clattered noisily to the floor, pills scattering in every direction.


	2. Explosion

Henrik’s ears were ringing with such intensity that he almost gagged as soon as he came to. As it was, he could only cough, the sharp movement sending a shock of pain through his aching, fetal body. Blood throbbed from the deep gash in his forehead, trailing sluggishly through the soot and grime coating his face.

He had hit something when he was thrown into the air—a cabinet, a desk? Distracted by the daze, he took several moments to register the sickly red streaking down his shoulder, where a twisted fragment of shrapnel had embedded itself.

Just a few inches shy and it could have been his neck. That thought made him cough again, harsher, hoarser, as the smoke from the nearby explosion continued to churn into the room.


	3. Delirium (Swap AU)

He didn’t know where he was. Charles felt as if he’d been bundled up in clothes two sizes too tight, hot and stifling, twisting more fiercely around him no matter how he tossed and turned to be free. In the shadows of the room, he could make out fingers (spiders?) crawling up the walls, appendages drumming to the rhythm of gunshots in the distance. Somewhere in the room, his wife was singing unintelligibly into his ear.

**“Stacia! Where are you?”** he moaned, his hands too heavy to sign. **“Cut me loose, please, love, I beg you…”**

Joined now by the creak of an old rocking chair, Stacia just kept singing.


	4. Human Shield (Swap AU)

“N҉o!͠ N͝͠҉o,͜ ͘Ant̵i, ̶please, le̢͜͞t̛ ̴̡him̴ ̢g͠o!”

“Oh…I didn’t realize how much I’ve missed hearing that desperation in your voice,” Puppetmaster purred, fangs bared in a taunting sneer as he used the flat of the knife to caress Marvin’s throat. “Well, sweet Dr. McLoughlin, would you care to tell Janson the odds of your survival if I sever your carotid artery?”

“Five minutes…at best,” Marvin growled, gritting his teeth as Janson trembled. “Jan, just go, just run! Don’t try to fight him, don’t even think about me—”

“Ah-ah.” The edge of the blade caught harshly on his skin then, making him wince. “None of that.”


	5. Gunpoint

Sweat slicked the gauge of the gun as it trailed down Bim’s temple. Adrenaline was flooding through him with no way to be expelled; the gunman’s free arm was wrapped in a stranglehold around his throat, compressing his windpipe and making his vision flicker and burn.

“Hand over everything you’ve got or your big celebrity show host dies!” he snarled, his voice pounding in Bim’s ear, louder than his own heartbeat.

“Yan…do what he says,” he choked out in a tiny whisper. “C-Come on, bud, please…”

To his growing dread, Yandere’s face was almost as red as his hair and a fever light of rage was igniting in his eyes; needless to say, he didn’t look very inclined to obey.


	6. Dragged Away

Chase’s senses were ablur and every muscle in his body was on fire; he was only kept upright by the realization that Marvin was sprawled on the asphalt on the other side of the totaled car, unmoving.

“Marv…” he croaked, blood flecking his lips with the word as he crawled, clutching at him as ambulance sirens loomed. Distantly he could hear the paramedics piling out and then unfamiliar hands were on him, prying his weak grip from Marvin’s shirt.

“Sir, you need to move back and let us work, we’ll take it from here.”

“No, he’s my brother!” he blurted out, wrestling against them as they dragged him back. “_Stop_, let go! I-I need to stay with him! _Let me stay!_”


	7. Isolation (Swap AU)

The silence was going to drive Splendor mad. His fear of the dark was already paralyzing enough but dangling here in his cell with nothing but the rattle of his chains to keep him company was just another layer of torture.

He should have been grateful for the reprieve; less time with the Puppetmaster meant fewer beatings, fewer taunts, more time to (fruitlessly) attempt sleep—but he’d lost track of how many days it had been now. He could hardly believe or admit it to himself, but he almost missed the sound of his voice…_anyone’s_ voice.

_Am I forgotten?_

The chains rattled again as he shivered.


	8. Stab Wound

The pool of hot, velvety red was pouring through the Host’s coat faster than even his narrations could contain it. Worse, the longer it went on, the harder he found it to keep his chapped lips moving, to stem the flow of time. The old-fashioned fountain pen buried in his side shifted and shivered painfully with his labored panting.

It was a shame to lose a pen this way. Its cartridge was now broken, black ink leaking, muddying the stream of crimson.

“The Host can…feel his heart racing, his breaths falling shallow as the air grows cold on his clammy skin…He will slip out of consciousness soon enough,” he mumbled exhaustedly, his sticky grip on his side starting to waver. His eye sockets felt raw, his head heavy. “Dare he hope that an ally…finds him in time…?”


	9. Shackled

The manacles were thick, leaden and hot, unyielding even as Jackie twisted against them. His digits were burning numbly from the lack of circulation and mottled welts were swelling around his wrists and ankles. Regardless, the clamp around his flushed throat was the worst, shortening his breath and crushing bruises into his Adam’s apple every time he tried to swallow.

Mouthing a hoarse curse, he thrashed yet again, grimy nails biting deep into his palms with the exertion, drawing blood. He couldn’t understand it! What was his superior strength even good for if he couldn’t break these open?!

A door opened somewhere in the distance, making him stiffen. They would return to interrogate him soon. If he was going to make any escape attempt, he had to get out now.


	10. Unconscious (Swap AU)

“James, can you hear me? Come on, please, say something. Open your eyes!” Marvin coaxed urgently, jostling the younger Ego as much as he dared. The vlogger’s head lolled limply against his shoulder, bruised eyelids dark in his pallid face as they fluttered.

He hadn’t stirred since their captors tossed him carelessly back into their cell like a ragdoll losing its stuffing. Marvin had hollered at them—questions, demands, threats—but there was no answer except a slammed door.

_No medicine, no equipment, no tools_. Helpless anger and fear soaring in his veins, Marvin cupped his patient’s bloodstained cheek. If he wanted to treat him, he would have to get their attention and _beg_ for it.


	11. Stitches

Google’s hands were steady and with the aid of his glasses, his vision was within nanometers of perfection. That confidence did nothing to soothe the doctor, however. With every new stitch, he jerked and whimpered underneath him, as if the wound were only being stretched open farther.

“Edward,” he murmured, trying to sound reassuring as he threaded the bloody needle further through the gash in his shoulder, “the longer you remain still, the sooner I am able to finish.”

“I know,” he gasped raggedly, eyes swimming with tears that he did his best to blink away. “Next time we have to do this without anesthetic, just punch me out. I don’t want to be awake for this again.”

“Noted.”


	12. "Don't move." (Swap AU)

Janson jolted awake much faster than he should have, mouth open to scream, but all that emerged was a wet, crackling gag that made his throat catch fire. It was loud enough to catch the attention of someone across the room, who hastily approached to steady him. 

“Don’t move, sir!” he warned sternly. “You suffered a traumatic injury to your throat; you need to lie still.”

With those words, Janson could feel a wild, disoriented fragment of his memory returning: _Anti…Anti cut me…He tried to kill me!_ The lump of confusion and terror that swelled in his chest brought tears to his eyes, earning a pursed expression of sympathy from the stranger.

“I’ll do what I can for you but in the meantime, try to rest.”


	13. Adrenaline

Sweat poured down Chase’s face as he pressed his back to the cold wall. The fear and adrenaline tunneled his senses, dizzying him with the intensity. Every tiny hair on his body was crawling with jitters. His pulse was hammering in his hands and temples.

Sagging a few inches closer to the floor as his knees went weak, he took a heavy breath. A great part of him was tempted to slump down here, let the exhaustion take hold and wait for his fate. He could hear the undercurrent of static churning toward him, on the hunt.

He could just…let it happen. His heart thundered harder at the thought, but behind his eyelids he could see the others. If they were to find him here with no signs of a struggle as a goodbye…

_Keep running for them_.


	14. Tearstained

Marvin’s own deep, rasping sobs dragged him out of a twisted sleep. His hair was tangled wildly around his face, blinding him as he struggled against the suffocating blankets. “S-Stop! _Stop!_ Chase!” It was only when one of his flailing arms hit his nightstand lamp that he lurched fully out of the nightmare.

The magic he had summoned in his sleep lit the room, reassuring him of where he truly was. Home. Safe. Nothing to fear…except _everything_ that could be lurking in the shadows.

Chest heaving, he sank back in trembling exhaustion, met with the wet fabric of his sweaty, tearstained pillow. He couldn’t even bring himself to care when it plastered to his clammy cheek and gradually dampened his hair. Fresh tears were already threatening, catching on his clumped lashes before he blinked them away. Breathing shakily, he hugged his throbbing wrist and stared numbly into the dark.


	15. Scars (Swap AU)

It would have been normal for him to cry at the sight of them, right? To curl into himself, to scream, to feel self-loathing and shame. Instead Splendor felt nothing but dull shellshock as he let the various hues of light around his mirror bathe his scars. Some were rough and raised, others white and sunken, still others pink and puffy.

With a soft, unsteady breath, he pressed a hand to the old burn along his exposed ribs. He felt no pain when he curled his nails into it, nor when he scraped them hard across, leaving angry red marks. Something colder than shellshock flared in him as he felt the faint sting. Pain was…good. Pain meant that he was alive, but this scar was just an ugly reminder of a pain he hadn’t _wanted_ to survive.

He would _dig_ it away if he had to. He wanted it gone.


	16. Pinned Down

_Bang, bang, bang_. Stretching his free arm toward the nearby pipe, Jameson rapped on it again. _Bang, bang, bang_. The metal was scalding against his bloody knuckles and the rest of his body was screaming in agony for freedom, unable to shift the debris pinning him to the floor like a bug to a corkboard.

He let his arm fall with a strangled breath, tears of frustration and exhaustion slipping softly through the fine dust coating his cheeks. He couldn’t cry out for help and wherever the surface may be, it was too far for his speech slides to travel. What if he was never found?

_No. Choose hope, Jameson. Always, always choose hope_. Biting his lip against the strain, he knocked again. _Bang, bang, bang_.


	17. "Stay with me."

“Schneep, look at me! Don’t go to sleep, please, just stay with me!” Jack implored, his pale face swimming into Henrik’s field of vision. Despite the pain, a flicker of perverse elation filled his chest at the sight of his creator…beloved, awake, whole and healthy again. The trade was more than worth it; he could rest well knowing that his patient was safe at last. He wasn’t a failure anymore…

Forcing his glazed, tired eyes to stay open was becoming harder and harder, no matter how frantically as Jack shook him by the shoulders in his fruitless bid to keep him awake. “Is okay, my friend…” he slurred, slumping forward into his hold. “They will…be happy to see you…”

“Henrik!”


	18. Muffled Scream

Lydia’s skin crawled as she shrank in the presence of what could only be called a _demon_. “Please,” she implored. “Please, just tell me what you want!”

“Oh̨, i̡t͝’s noth̵ing I̵ wa͝nt fr҉o͏m ̡you,” he hissed, hooking his talons under her chin to lift it. “Yo͘u҉r o̴nl͏y̡ pu͟rp̴ose ͝įs to͢ be _i̷nc̷ent̢iv̢e_ f͜or ͜y͝o̵u͝r̡ ͠f̢a̡vor͠i̛te͡ boy.”

Somewhere in the distance, the front door squeaked open. It took a moment for Lydia to recognize the faint sounds of talking and laughter—Jameson’s brothers!—but as soon as she surged forward against her restraints, the monster had his hands around her throat and over her mouth, stifling her hoarse shriek for help.

“Sh͠h̴hh̛…Sc̶r͝e͘am a҉gąi̶n̡, mơppe̴t, and I̛'l̡l͏ br̵ea͢k͜ ̷your ̶pr͡e͠tty l͝ittl̶e neçk.”


	19. Asphyxiation (Swap AU)

Tears and black spots formed fractals in Charles’ vision as he wheezed, his desperately tiny sips of air exploding from his chest in raw, wracking coughs. His hands were numb, too weak to cover his mouth and muffle the volume. _Mustn’t…scare the children_…he thought deliriously as he collapsed into his sweaty blankets, his heartbeat flighty in his ears.

Again and again he choked on nothing, the walls of his throat closing in little by little. Every cough formed a tightening noose until his chest burned and his lips were slack and tingling. His head felt like it was going to explode from the pressure and his body was nonexistent. Could he still taste the stale air?

For just a brief, dim moment he wondered if he heard his bedroom door open, but he wasn’t conscious long enough to be concerned.


	20. Trembling

Google could hear no movement nearby, no stirring beyond the whistle of the wind and the aching rattle of his metal frame. The snow had gathered up to his core now, wet sludge seeping into his chest and slowing his systems to a crawl. The soft intrusion sparked microshocks, forcing him to twitch and tremble aimlessly. His jaw throbbed from the force of his teeth chattering and his sensory net felt like it was on fire.

This? This was how he was destined to shut down? Not in the blaze of triumph as he tore humans down left and right, but buried alive in a blizzard. His shoulders shook harder at that phrase: “Buried _alive_.” The doctor…That was something he might have said.

He would miss him.


	21. Laced Drink (Swap AU)

_This… isn’t right. M’not drunk, I haven’t even had three shots_, Marvin realized sluggishly as he tipped his glass in a weak, clumsy hand, examining what little was left its contents. Like melting Jell-O a vague list of symptoms seeped in from the corners of his mind, symptoms he’d seen in far too many of his patients.

_Get out. Call…Jan. Hen. Someone. Scream_…Was he moving already? It felt as if his whole body was floating away, leaving nothing to support his numb, heavy head…except that hand petting the back of his neck. When had that gotten there? Eyes fluttering, he shuddered, trying to shrug it off. “Nnh…no…”

“Hey, now, handsome,” the owner of the hand purred. “I’m just trying to do you a favor. Don’t fight it.”


	22. Field Medicine

Jackieboy’s breath shook and his legs spasmed in a weak attempt to kick at the ground of the alleyway as Jameson dug the medical clamps into the shredded skin of his bicep, searching for the broken artery to lock and tie off. Blood was weeping down Jackie’s arm faster than he could track it and their enemies could return any minute now.

**“Jackieboy, I need to open the wound farther to see,”** Jameson informed him hurriedly, eyes wide and fearful behind his own mask, **“but I-I don’t want to cause you more pain!”******

“Do it. Don’t…Don’t freeze up on me,” he panted, tears and sweat streaking freely through the grime on his face. “Do whatever you have to. I’ve taken worse.”


	23. Bleeding Out

Roxanne couldn’t stop shivering. Maybe…Maybe that was a _good_ thing, she tried to rationalize as sticky warmth seeped between the fingers she had pressed against the nearest wound. Shivering meant that there was still time. Her phone had clattered away somewhere in her fall and she couldn’t get up. All she could do was moan for help and hope someone would stumble upon her.

There was so much blood. She didn’t even need to lift her head and look to know; the dizziness and the awful, rapid drumming of her heart spoke volumes. Her breaths came in shallow, strangled gasps and even the strength to panic was seeping out of her reach.

“Caleb…” she choked out feebly, praying that somewhere in the city he would hear. “Caleb…please…find me.”


	24. Secret Injury

It took everything Chase had not to limp and sway as he shuffled past the others, waving distractedly to keep up appearances before ducking into the bathroom. As soon as the door was firmly locked, he sagged against it with a strangled gasp, his vision washing out as the pain fully sank in.

Sliding awkwardly onto the cold floor, he grit his teeth, rolling the sticky fabric of his pants leg up with clumsy fingers. The gash to his calf wasn’t deep but it was long; it hadn’t stopped bleeding into his sock the entire walk home. _Tell Schneep. Get it fixed_, reason whispered in the back of his mind…But why bother? Schneep was busy with his own problems; he didn’t need to deal with Chase on top of it all.

_Be responsible, then. Deal with it yourself_.


	25. Humiliation

“P-Please, Kevin, I really need those!” Erik implored, sweat beading along his hairline as he dragged himself awkwardly across the cement in search of a handhold. “Come on, I-I need them more than you do! They’re super, super delicate!”

“Pretty sure your _real_ legs were more delicate than these if you lost ’em!” Kevin snickered as he swung the prosthetics back and forth. “They’re super light, though! Let’s see how far they can fly!” With no further ado, he tossed them nonchalantly away to hit the green several yards away.

“What are you—?! No! Please, g-go get them back!”

“Why don’t _you_ go?” Kevin shot back with a grin. “It’ll build core strength, bud! I’ll cheer you on! Fetch!”

Erik’s eyes and cheeks burned as he bowed his head.


	26. Waterlogged

Henrik had always loved the ocean, to the point that Marvin called it his “sea-longing”, like the Elves in fiction. It wasn’t far off from the truth. He had always thought of the sea as his peace, his safe place, his second home. Now as the rip current sent him flailing and tumbling, all of those thoughts were gone.

“_Hghh_—_hh_—!” He couldn’t find the surface long enough to call for help, eyes blinded by foam and muscles burning as he heaved against the water. As a wall of water hit the back of his throat, the salt scorched his lungs, strangling him. When he coughed, only more water clogged his senses. The panicked frenzy was quickly giving way to dizziness, weighing him down, making his strokes weak.

The sea was his second home…maybe now his resting place.


	27. Hiding (Swap AU)

Splendor knew that they were already looking for him. Somewhere in the distance he could hear Puppetmaster’s goons hollering, but he couldn’t raise his voice and answer them; he could barely breathe. Terror smeared his vision as he dropped to his knees on the cold floor, dragging himself into a tight ball behind the closest pieces of machinery.

Doors were slamming and the voices were climbing in volume. Swallowing a whimper, the magician pressed burnt, shaking hands over his mouth and nose. _Still and silent_.

When he saw a long shadow cast in the entryway, he froze, his stomach churning. “You got so far, my little pest,” Puppetmaster sighed with feigned sympathy, breaking into a grin just a moment later. “But you forget my powers. I can _always_ hear your heartbeat.”


	28. Beaten (Swap AU)

James’ head bounced off the hot concrete as he was hurled down, the world momentarily whiting out in the one eye that wasn’t already swollen shut. A knee jammed into his stomach and his strangled gasp tasted of nothing but blood as he struggled, arms flailing futilely to push Anthony off. He tried to cry out for help, protest, beg, but the fist that crashed into his face was unyielding, feeding any words back to him.

“Yeah! What d’you think of me now?!” Anthony spat, his rings coming away bloody on the next blow. “Is dating my sister still worth it?! You still want to tell her I’m a bad influence, that I shouldn’t be trusted?! I’m her family! You’re _nothing!_”

When the assault finally let up, James sobbed, his vision hazy. It was practically effortless to let darkness take over.


	29. Numb (Swap AU)

**“Stay strong, Janson! You hold on for me now, do you understand?”**Charles ordered frantically as he tore off his overcoat, bundling it snugly around Janson’s thin, deformed frame. He was dazed and sluggish, his skin as white as fragile porcelain. To Charles’ greater alarm, in some places it was purplish-blue.

“C͞-̧Ca͜n’t͡ feel ͘m’fi̸ng͝erş…” the Glitch mumbled, lips chapped and uncooperative . He couldn’t taste the blood as his sharp teeth caught on them either; even the wound to his throat looked as if it had frozen.

Hissing worriedly through his teeth, Charles grabbed his hands, rubbing and blowing on them furiously in a rushed attempt to recapture circulation. All he managed to do was slough pixels from his skin, which hovered in eerie little clouds before drifting with the snowflakes.


	30. Recovery

Every heartbeat was an explosion in Chase’s ears, constant, inescapable, and the sound of his half-stifled sobs was like an added hammer. Doubling over in his medical bed, ignoring the way it pulled at the IV, he buried his head in his hands, fingers scratching at the bandages wound tight around his beading forehead.

“Chase?!” Jackieboy called in alarm, shoving the tray of lunch he bore onto Henrik’s desk as he rushed to his side. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Why?” he moaned tremulously, slumping sideways against Jackieboy’s chest. “W-Why did you guys have to _save_ me? I d-don’t want to feel this anymore!”

“…I know,” Jackie whispered, running gentle fingers through his hair; they felt like rusty nails dragging against his scalp. “But the pain’s not going to last forever, Chase. We’re going to help you get better.”


	31. Embrace

Jameson’s breaths were thin and hoarse against Henrik’s neck, his eyes half-lidded, his grip on his collar loose and clumsy. Henrik’s cradling arms felt tighter than any hug he had felt before, as if just holding him wasn’t enough—as if he needed to feel every ounce of him. He was a cocoon around a fragile butterfly.

**“Doc…”** Jameson slurred, his speech slide dim. **“Don’t let me die in his hands…I beg you…”**

“No. No, you are not going to die. The others are coming, Jamie, they are going to save the both of us.” As the churning of static began to fill the room, he drew the younger Ego closer still, up onto his knees. Hiding Jameson’s head under one arm, Henrik kept his gaze trained on the door, his voice filling with venom. “I won’t let him take you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy birthday, Jameson...


End file.
